The Meaning of War
by Noobycakes
Summary: FLUFF. America couldn't let the war with Belarus go on any longer, he had to end it R&R please


**Disclaimer: This site is called Fan Fiction dot net. If you cannot figure out from that that the following is a work of fan fiction and that the characters and the setting do not belong to the manual author, please contact your village head and inform him/her that your village is no longer missing its idiot.**

**A/N: Sorry I've been gone so long, I have actually just been working on my novel instead of fanfics. So here's a oneshot of my OTP to show I'm still alive, just slowly making progress lol Enjoy ^_^**

A hill was heavily laden with grass and blooming flowers that swayed in the warm spring wind. As the grass danced under the lead of its invisible partner, if one looked hard enough, one could barely see the outlines of a hidden man.

His brown hair danced in the breeze as he peered through his glasses with one blue eye down the scope of his sniper rifle. He could have killed his intended victim many times within the last half hour he'd been watching her, but something held him back. It had stayed his finger when, mere seconds before, it had been itching for the killing shot. The unknown feeling now made him pull his entire hand away from the trigger.

No, not unknown; unbidden. The moment he saw the wind tug her ashen hair, and ruffle her bow, he felt it crawl inside him. When he saw her sitting amid the tiger lilies and hibiscus', smiling as she plucked them, the feeling firmly latched itself onto him.

America sighed in slightly happy defeat, and stood up. He smiled warmly, the gun hanging loosely at his side, as he revealed himself to her.

Belarus saw him get up and her eyes immediately spotted the gun. She jumped up in swirl of skirts and pulled her ever present knife out, positioning it in front of her as she fixed him with a deadly glare.

"Wait a-" She cut him off as she ran forward with sickening speed and completely closed their distance.

She swung the knife, aiming for his throat. America dodged with inches to spare by leaning backwards and, dropping his gun, grabbed the back of her wrist. Letting her momentum carry her in front of him, he grabbed her waist with his other hand and pulled her into him, lightly slamming her back into his front.

"Now wait a second." America said sternly. "If I wanted to kill you, I would have by now." He let the statement sink in before continuing. "If I let you go, will you promise not kill me?"

Belarus thought for a moment. This man had pointed a gun at her, which was unforgivable. But, she had been the one to start this war, she'd freely admit, so maybe it wasn't so unforgivable. It was just so frustrating! He only looked at her with the same eyes he did every other country; there wasn't a single drop of love in them for her. And if she couldn't have him, well, she'd kill him.

Her body stiffened as she braced herself for the struggle to come; she felt his body mimic hers, much to his displeasure. Then, a scene flashed through her head, the moment he had stood up. He had smiled at her! Not just a jovial smile, but a loving one. If only the sun hadn't been shining in his glasses, she could have seen his eyes; she could have been sure.

Her body relaxed as the welcomed uncertainty crept into her mind, and America didn't waste his chance. She saw as much as felt his hand cautiously release her wrist and inch towards her knife. His fingers slowly pried it away from her as she stood, bewildered, in his grasp.

"There now." America said soothingly as he dropped it into the grass. He spun her around until he was staring into her eyes, a blush creeping ever so slowly into both of their faces. "Belarus," he said her name, causing her to break their contact as a wave of happy embarrassment flushed into her cheeks. A light bulb clicked in America's head. "Forgive me, for I just noticed." A pause. "That's what this war is all about, isn't it?"

She pulled away from his grasp, locking eyes with him once again. Taking a deep breath and mustering the headstrong personality she was known for, and yet he stole away, she began vehemently, "I was just another country to you!"

She opened her mouth to go on, but America placed a finger over her lips, stopping her. He placed both his gloved hands on her cheeks, and traced her lips with his thumbs as he said, "I see my mistake now."

She blinked her eyes in surprise. "Does that mean?" She gazed up at him. She held her breath as she saw he love she had longed for, for so long, in his eyes.

"I love you." He said as he leaned in, his lips hairsbreadths away from her, questioning.

Her lips answered his, closing the distance, her arms pulling him close.

Soon, they were both breathing heavily, faces red, and they pulled apart. America rested his head on hers, foreheads touching as he gazed into her eyes happily, content. All of a sudden, Belarus pulled back and, glaring at him, hit him in the mouth. America fell to the ground as she unexpectedly attacked him, holding his swollen cheek.

"What was that for?" He asked indignantly and slightly angry.

"You pointed a gun at me." She huffed down at him.

They froze in place for a minute, and then America started laughing. "Sorry." He said between chuckles. She stared at him, then joined sat down next to him, joining him in his merriment.


End file.
